


Tourniquet

by Peppermint_Patty



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Betrayal, Character Death, Gen, Ghost Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Poison
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:48:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29359776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peppermint_Patty/pseuds/Peppermint_Patty
Summary: Dream was invited to Badboyhalo's mansion for muffins! Dream happily accepts the invite, but should he have?
Comments: 29
Kudos: 126





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just had a thought, based off the evanescence song "Tourniquet"

When Dream received a letter from a trained Messenger parrot, he was surprised. The red bird landed gently on his arm and he gently removed the letter tied to its leg. His green eyes roamed the paper, scanning the lines written in red ink of parchment. It was an invitation. From BadboyHalo.

He hummed as he carefully grabbed a clean piece of parchment and a quill. The bird moved from his arm and onto the table Dream was just at. He dipped his quill in his ink and began writing. His words flowed eloquently across the paper in nice italic loops. He hummed as he tied his response to its leg and sent it on his way.

With his palm resting under his chin as he reread Bad’s letter to him. 

“ _ Dear Dream, _

_ I hope this letter finds you in good health. I was writing to you wondering if you would like to come over to my place tomorrow to bake some muffins! I wanted to try banana muffins! A new recipe and I wanted you, Dream, to taste test them! _

_ Meet me at my place at 6 PM tomorrow. _

_ Muffinly,  _

_ BadBoyHalo.” _

Dream chuckled. Banana muffins? That’s a new one. He tried one of Bad’s newer recipes, blueberry muffins, and he’s not much of a fan, but it goes well with breakfast sometimes. He leaned back in his chair, bringing the letter close to his face. Evening muffins? Well then, Dream will have to bring his favorite tea to go with these ‘Banana muffins.’


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream arrives.

Dream slowly walked down the wooden pathway that transitioned to stone the closer it got to the pristine mansion. He admired its beauty as he opened its grand doors, he gripped his leather traveling bag, its strap laying crossing his chest to his left shoulder, feeling the box of tea bags thump against his thigh as he walked.

He knew his way around well enough to find his friend’s kitchen. He walked in, a smile on his face behind the mask.

“Bad!” He greeted the other with wide opened arms.

“Dream, you made it!” he said as he returned the hug.

“It’s been too long,” he said as he pulled Bad away from his chest but his arms were still on his shoulders.

“It has, it has.” Bad nodded, his tail flicked behind him. He leads Dream over to his kitchen island where his freshly-baked muffins are laid out to cool. 

“Here you go,” Bad plucked one from the rack, placing it on a small plate, giving it to Dream. Dream stared at it, a fond look in his eyes, he moved his mask to the side of his face, he brought it up to his face, inhaling the scent of it. He noticed it smelt sweet and just a little bitter. He opened his mouth to bite into it before he paused.

“Hey, how come you aren’t eating any?” he tilted his head slightly, noticing how bad was staring at him, waiting for him to take a bite.

“Oh! ‘Cause I ate my last batch, it made my mouth kind of dry.” Bad’s tail swung softly behind him.

“Ah, that reminds me,” Dream placed the muffin down onto his plate before he dug around his bag and pulled out his tea. “I brought this,” he handed the bagged herbs to the older male.

“Tea?” he asked.

“Yeah, I thought it would go nicely with your new muffins.” Dreamed moved around the kitchen, he started up the fire as he filled a small cauldron with water and he waited for it to boil.

“By the way, where’s Skeppy?” 

“Oh, you know him, he’s off fetching me a ‘surprise’ as he calls it, but I bet he’s looking for a way to troll me again.” Bad huffed.

“I see. Did he get to try any of your muffins?” He placed his hands in his hooded pockets.

“He did, he took three of them from the last batch. One for him, one for Puffy, and the third one might just be for him later.” Bad listed on his fingers.

“Puffy? H-how is she doing?” Dream cleared his throat.

“She’s doing well, she misses you, she asks if anyone has seen her duckling,” Bad said, sorrow filling his pale grey eyes.

Dream didn’t say anything, he shuffled his feet awkwardly, the air tensed around them, the silence thickened and only broke by the sound of the water bubbling over the top. He extinguished the fire and Bad moved to get two mugs from his cupboards. Dream had carefully poured water into the two cups and then grabbed two tea bags and let them sink in the cups.

“Do you want sugar? It’s sweet enough without but I’m not sure if you want it sweeter.” Dream blew into his cup.

“Actually, I do want some sugar.” Bad winced at the taste, he reached to grab the small jar of sugar that rested next to the salt jar on the kitchen island. He placed two spoon fulls before sighing in content at the sweetness of it all.

“You consume a lot of sugar, Bad.” Dream chuckled.

“I have a sweet tooth, I’ll admit.” He gave Dream a small smile.

Dream reached for his muffin again, he thanked the man for it once more and took a bite. He noticed how thick it was and how sweet it was but he also noticed how it tasted bitter too, how moist it was in his mouth. He swallowed, and he reached for his tea again, trying to wash the now increasingly bitter aftertaste out his mouth. 

“Bad-” he coughed. His heart started beating rapidly, almost painfully. He clenched his hoodie as he coughed again, he dropped the muffin on the floor and he stumbled for the door. He can feel his throat closing now. Bad followed him, not saying a thing, but he still hovered over Dream, his arms reached out as though he was going to grab him.

He doubled over, coughing harder as it wracked his chest, he nearly hit the floor if it weren’t for Bad grabbing him. His heart was skipping beats now, he realized.

“Bad, what did you put in your muffins?” He wheezed through teary eyes. 

“I…” Bad faltered.

“Poison.” Said another voice, stepping out a room to the left of them. 

“Quackity…?” Dream blinked, looking at the younger man as he stood tall with a menacing aura, his enchanted netherite sword clenched in his callous fingers. From behind Quackity emerged two familiar silhouettes.

“George...Sapnap…” He whispered, taking in their guilty expressions. His eyes flicked from his former friends to Bad, who avoided his eyes as his tail thumped softly on the ground. He shoved the older man off him and stumbled for the door, his breath increasingly labored.

He ran out of the mansion, leaving his tea behind, but it didn’t matter. He cut through bamboo and trees, he ran until his legs couldn’t carry him anymore. He collapsed by the river, his fingers dug into the muddy ground as he shook, his coughs achingly rattled his chest. Blood dripped from his lips to the ground, the ground almost soaked it up. 

He got up on shaky legs and stumbled into the river, the tide pushing him. He wobbled as he tried to cross, as he clenched his hoodie, now drizzled with blood. It hurt, it hurt to die this way. Dream didn't want to die, he's not ready yet. Tears flowed freely down his drained face, too weak to wipe them, he collapsed in the water. He landed on his side, feeling his lungs inhaling water and his heart slowed, then he closed his eyes. He was pushed downstream into some ocean somewhere, never to be found.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's in those woods, George?

It's been about a year since Dream's assassination, no corpse to be found. George spent  _ months  _ trying to find it, he spent weeks camping outdoors, trying to track him down by following the last path Dream took.

Sapnap joined him at first, but after finding Dream's water-damaged mask floating idly in a river, he stopped searching. The mask confirmed that Dream is dead and his body is long gone, probably eaten away by larger sea life.

He broke down crying, he clutched the dirty porcelain to his chest and wailed. It hurt George to see his friend like this, he almost broke down with him when he saw the mask, a delusional part of him believing that Dream somehow made some sort of herbal cure for the poison. The mask was a reality check, no amount of herbs and healing can save anyone from a strong, fast-acting poison like the one Dream unknowingly consumed. 

George was walking down by the river, the same river he believed Dream tried to cross before he died. He used to walk aimlessly with Dream, before everything happened on this server. Before the wars, back when they had just built the community house.

He sniffed. Dream was gone. They plotted his death, Quackity supplied the poison, Bad placed it in his muffins, George and Sapnap watched from another room Dream holding his demise in his hands. He watched how Dream made tea, how nice he was, a painful semblance of the man Dream used to be.

He stopped in his tracks when he heard laughing. His heart spread up, he whipped his head to the side, pinpointing where the noise was coming from. The laughing was familiar, it was a wheeze. George didn't know if his mind turned against him and was playing tricks on him or if there was a laugh.

He jumped in the river, and he pushed against the current, he pulled himself over the ledge and scrambled to his feet. He sprinted into the woods, following the voice. He ran until he entered a clearing and then he stopped dead in his tracks.

There, in the sun rays, floated a figure. The figure had faint green eyes and blond hair that goes against gravity as it floats with him. He wore a lime green long-sleeved shirt and black pants and shoes. His face lightly freckled and in the corner of his lips, dripped a darker green liquid that dripped on his sweater. The liquid seemed to fall to the floor but it always disappeared before it could touch the ground.

The ghost didn't seem to notice George, he was occupied with feeding two stray horses some apples. He laughed as the smaller horse neighed for more. 

George stood there with wide eyes. He put a hand to cover his mouth and the other rested against a tree. He took a startling step back and stepped on a branch. The ghost whipped his head around in inhumane speed with the vilest expression on his dead face. It was so terrifying that the horses cowered and ran away, the apple in his hand had the life sucked out of it as it mutated from its ripe red to an ugly goop. The apple fell to the ground with a sickening  _ plop!  _

If George was scared before, he was  _ petrified  _ now. The figure floated a few more inches- about a foot- above the ground, the air whipped around then and George couldn’t help but brace his arms in front of him to block the wind that whipped his face. 

“ _ Leave.”  _ The ghost hissed.

“What?” George asked, still in shock.

“ _ LEAVE!”  _ The ghost shrieked, George had to cover his ears before his eardrums could pop at the monstrous volume, it shook the ground and rattled the trees around them. George would’ve run away if he was given another moment, instead he was grabbed by the waist and hoisted in the air by thorny vines that erupted from the ground.

His mismatched eyes darted to the floating  _ thing  _ coming closer to him. Dead eyes locked onto alive eyes and they stood there, neither of them breathing in the tense silence they created. The ghost’s eyes narrowed and suddenly George was thrown violently, the thorns ripping his skin and shirt. He would have screamed if his back didn’t just break through a couple of tree branches. He fell to the ground, his sides bleeding and his back bruised, with unshed tears he looked in the direction of the other, his green eyes glowed in the shade of the trees. George crawled on all fours for a moment before sprinting out the clearing and back the way he came, he let the tears fall freely when he crossed the river and passed the bamboo. 

He didn’t care how pitiful he looked, dirty and bloody while sobbing in the doorway of his and Sapnap’s shared home. Sapnap was by his side in an instant, he guided his older friend in their home focused on healing him with bandages and potions.

“What happened to you?” Sapnap asked.

“I…” George cleared his throat, “I was walking by  _ that  _ river and I heard laughter, and it sounded like Dream’s-” he was cut off when Sapnap raised his hand in front of them.

“Stop, I don’t want to hear it.” He got up from his spot on the ground. He put away the clean bandages and remaining potions in their respective chests by the kitchen.

“You have to believe me! It-it  _ was  _ his laugh and-and it was so clear, and I saw someone floating in the clearing. It looked like Drea-” 

Sapnap slammed his hand down on the wooden surface of the chest.

“I SAID  _ ENOUGH!”  _ He whipped around, his expression tight and his lips pulled in a snarl.

“There was no laughter, there was no floating person in the woods. You just had your butt handed to you and cried like a baby, that’s all, okay?” He walked past George. “Dream’s dead, he’s been dead for a year, and he’s not coming back.” his voice cracked, he roughly bumped George’s shoulders, making his way up the stairs.

George winced as Sapnap slammed the door. He stood there in silence, the tears came back. He moved to the couch, his head in his hands as he sobbed. He knows what he saw, he knows that ghost was Dream, and he knows that thing that attacked was also Dream. He finds himself wishing Dream just stayed a corpse instead of whatever he was now.


End file.
